To love is to forgive.
Does that mean the principal loves Buzz now?
Sunday, April 24th, 2011
9:39 p.m.
Easter
Now this is a holiday that I don’t understand. I don’t understand why there is an Easter bunny who has Easter eggs. In the real world, rabbits don’t lay eggs, chickens do. A rabbit is considered to be a warm-blooded mammal just like humans, and we don’t lay eggs. So I am confused why a bunny is hiding eggs. Who did the bunny steal the eggs from? Are there a million mother hens running around screaming, “My babies are gone,” or are the hens confused about why a pretty bunny, instead of a fox, is stealing their eggs? How did the bunny decorate the eggs without opposable thumbs? This whole thing just raises too many questions for my teenage mind. The only logical answer I can come up with is because it’s fun.
I think I’m right, because I had a blast. Jessica and I woke up and searched the house for our hidden Easter baskets full of candy. After finding them, we sat in front of the TV, watching morning cartoons and eating chocolate, marshmallows, jelly candy, and all sorts of things that I had to find in a layer of fake pink grass on the bottom of my basket. To be a kid again is great. Who cares about a bunny that walks on two feet instead of all four like a normal bunny? I got his goodies, and that’s all I care about.
Later on in the day, we dyed hard-boiled eggs and decorated them. There are some childish things in life you are never too old to do, and this is one of them. I love the smell of vinegar filling the house. Then the time came for our parents to hide the eggs. This is something else that never gets old, but my parents never hesitate to tell me I’m too old to find the Easter eggs. So I bargained with them. I told them I would give Jessica a ten-second head start, and they jacked the time up to five minutes. The eggs would be gone by then, so I finally got the time down to two minutes. When the time was up, I bolted. Jessica didn’t find any eggs after they released me. My dad got mad at me, and I hid the eggs I found. That was expected.
We had our traditional Easter pot roast dinner, and I did the usual: I asked why we don’t eat rabbit on Easter, and this year Jessica didn’t cry like she usually does. I love a good pot roast that cooks all day, smelling up the house with a carrot-and-potato smell. You know, even though I can’t figure out this holiday, I really enjoy it and all the fun activities that come with it.
Because you demand more from yourself, others respect you deeply.
Well then, I demand more eggs to dye.
Wednesday, April 27th, 2011
8:47 p.m.
Boy for Sale
Not much time left until the dance—it’s this Friday—and I still don’t have a date. Why do I need a date anyway? Can’t I go alone? Man, I need a date. One of my readers keeps insisting I go to the dance with her. I don’t know; I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out with someone you don’t know. You could say, well then what is a blind date? A blind date is usually recommended by a friend who actually knows the person, so if you trust your friend, then you should have no problem going on the blind date. I am not close friends with my computer, so I don’t trust anyone my computer tries to set me up on a blind date with.
Jacob has already asked Buzz’s sister, and they will be going with us. I am the only lonely person in the group. I would ask Angela if she knows anyone, but she is too busy talking to Buzz. I went ahead and got two tickets. One for me and one for my mystery guest. So now I am prepared for anything.
Nothing new with Donald and Tim. Still have no idea what they have planned and when their evil deeds will take place. I wonder if it will happen the last day of school. Well, Buzz and Angela told me instead of us meeting at her place at 7:30 p.m. on Friday, I should be there at 7:00 p.m. instead. Ok, I have nothing else to do. They told me to bring my date, and I snickered and walked off. Well, I can’t think anymore, so I’m out of here. Next time I write will be after the dance.
You will be invited to an exciting event.
Hey, that’s my job.
Saturday, April 30th, 2011
9: 54 a.m.
To Dance or Not to Dance
While walking over to Angela’s house dateless, I was trying to think of what to tell her dad. I could try the old homework trick and say my dog ate my date. I could say on the way over, she evaporated. I really didn’t know what to tell the guy. Will the whole group date be canceled because of me?
I got there, and Angela let me in. Angela told me that she and Buzz had a surprise for me. I do love a good surprise, but this one almost made me cry. Buzz and Angela handed me a wrapped box with a bow on top. I’ve never had such a fancy present in all my life. My usual presents are only covered in wrapping paper. I really felt special, but that’s nothing compared to how I felt after I opened it. I opened it, and inside was a decorated rock. Buzz and Angela had painted the rock, and on it they wrote: “Bradley, Thank you for making the right choice.” I nearly cried.
I remembered a long time ago how I was given the choice to help Buzz or to get in serious trouble. I remembered how I felt after I was told how I was to help Buzz. I had wished he had thrown the rock. Now, it has been a long and winding road, but I am so happy I chose the path less traveled. I have made new friends, and I have left the not-so-good friends behind. Ok, I’ll admit it; I lost it a little and cried. But they were tears of joy, and it has been a long time since I have cried. I’m not ashamed. Both Buzz and Angela game me a big group hug. I wanted this friendship to last forever. Not to mention, this is the first time Angela has shown any form of kindness to me since my first day of school, so I was pretty stoked about that.
I then informed them that I didn’t have a date. Angela told me she knew that because … and this is where I found out something that I would have never guessed … She has been reading my blog since day one!!! This whole time I have been spilling the beans about everything I thought or felt about her, and she has read all of it!! She went on to tell me that on Halloween she was the one who suggested dressing up as a lawn gnome. It gets worse. When she read that I was going to ask her out, she was the one who said not to do it, and that must be why when I went to ask her, she appeared to already know what I was going to do. I also remembered that in the letter she wrote to Buzz, in the P.S. she said she was sorry about my head. I was wondering how she knew about that. What a small World Wide Web it is.
Now for the good news. The one person who kept on telling me she would go to the dance with me is one of Angela’s friends, and she is only a phone call away. I blushed and blood rushed to my head just thinking about calling a girl and asking her to go to the dance with me, but I did. Her name is Candice, and when she came over, I recognized her from school. We had a lot to talk about. I asked her when she started reading my blog, and she said she started back in January. She was so happy because she was the last weekly winner—she made the suggestion about aliens. It was love at first type. Her imagination and my weird sense of humor are a perfect match. It was the best blind date ever.
The principal took a million photos of us, and then we left for the dance. When we got there, we decided to get our pictures taken right away to avoid a crowd. The guys fixed their hair; Jacob was very cautious about his. The girls made sure to tuck their price tags in, so they wouldn’t look silly. I was surprised the girls left the price tags on their dresses, but they explained they left the tags on so that after the dance, they can return their overly priced dresses as long as we don’t spill anything on them.
We walked on the dance floor as the music started to play a slow song. I can only dance to slow songs; other than that, I am useless as a dancing partner. Come to realize, I’ve never danced with anyone before. My mom doesn’t count. Candice felt so soft, and her hair smelt like roses. I could have danced all night with her. Sad to say, after three minutes of heaven, the DJ turned on some rap music and spoiled the moment. I couldn’t dance to the rap. Jacob, on the other hand, was really shaking a leg. That kid can really dance.
Looki
ng around, I didn’t see Donald or Tim. But Hercules was there. He was guarding the punch bowl, so I went to talk to him. I asked him if he had a date, and he did, but she was off dancing with everyone but him. So he is trying to drink all of the punch to get his money’s worth. Good thinking.
The night went on, and soon they announced the last song. I was sad to see the night end, and the end of the school year is almost here. I wish they would have played a longer song, because I really think I’m falling for Candice. I really could have danced all night with her. But the song ended, the lights went on, and we walked outside to look for Angela’s dad.
I kept thinking to myself that this was by far the best night of my life, but if you have read this far in my blog, you know that some kind of disaster was waiting for me around the corner. I am sorry to inform you that you are right. We turned a corner, heading to the parking lot, and that’s when it happened. I was the first to notice Donald and Tim pop out from behind the bushes wearing all black, with their faces covered, but I knew it was them. They had water balloons, and my catlike reflexes finally kicked in. I had to move fast because I didn’t want Candice to get harmed with our silly wars. I have read stories on the Internet about how a mother saves her baby by picking up a car, which she is able to do because of an adrenaline rush. I don’t think I have ever had an adrenaline rush until after the dance. When I saw the trouble, without thinking of my own protection, I picked up Candice and jumped behind a car.
Buzz and Jacob were not so fortunate. All they had time for was to get in front of their dates and take every balloon Donald and Tim sent their way. As the balloons popped on Jacob and Buzz as they shielded the girls, to my horror I saw the balloons were filled with paint. Buzz and Jacob took the blows, every single one. Once Donald and Tim were out of balloons, they ran. Jacob and Buzz ran after them, but it was no use; those fools were gone. We inspect the damages. Jacob was covered with multiple colors, but his date was spotless. Buzz too was covered, and Angela was sitting on the ground crying. One balloon slipped past Buzz and got her. Her dress was covered in red paint. She can’t return the dress now.
We met up with the principal, and he was furious. Buzz tried to take all of the blame by saying it was all his fault, that he would pay for the dress take care of the culprits. The principal refused to give us a ride home, which is fine because we are used to walking. Angela also said a few hurtful words along the lines of, “Buzz, I can’t hang out with you until this whole mess you started is over.” Candice thanked me for saving her, and I was more than happy to save her, but the same went for her—she will not hang out with me until this whole mess is over. Jacob’s date, on the other hand, was sad because she thought they were going to get ice cream after the dance.
Angela’s dad and the girls drove out of sight and possibly out of our lives forever if we don’t do something to end the prank war. Jacob and I looked to Buzz and asked what we should do. Buzz said we do nothing. We need to make friends with the enemy. I didn’t know what to think. I was still amazed I saved Candice. Jacob was very mad. “We do nothing? That is the worst thing we can do. We need to get them!” Buzz wanted nothing to do with violence, and Jacob knew this, so he took off. I walked home as well, and I still don’t know what to do. So I placed my rock on top of my dresser drawers, and I went to bed.
Believe in yourself and others will too.
I really don’t know what to believe or think anymore.
May
Monday, May 2nd, 2011
10:30 a.m.
The Beast Is Back
I got to school today still a little confused on what we should do to end the war, and as I walked into class I could see that Jacob had a shiner. I went up to him and asked him what happened, and he told me that on Sunday he went to the store and he saw Tim there. He went up to Tim and tackled him right in the store. He said that after a few minutes of scrambling around on the floor, with employees yelling at them, Tim swung his elbow back and nailed Jacob in the eye. The fight ended, and Tim got up, gave Jacob one final kick, and took off. So Jacob left the store, and he now has a black eye for his efforts.
For some reason, this little piece of information just really festered in my brain, to the point where I couldn’t control myself and I marched out of the classroom. I know that violence is never the answer, but something had to be done. That little jerk needs to be punished.
I burst into Tim’s homeroom class, grabbed the little twerp, and dragged him to the men’s room. Every student in the class followed us. As I was dragging Tim, he was wiggling and screaming like a girl on the ground. No offense girls. I kicked open the door to the bathroom, went into a stall, and proceeded to tell Tim that he was a rotten human being and that I might get kicked out of school for this but I would feel better after doing it. I picked Tim up, with his feet shaking in the air; I paused for a moment, and looked around. All of these students were chanting my name, all of them expecting me to dunk this kid in the toilet. Was violence really the answer? I plunged Tim head first in the toilet and flushed it.
After realizing what I had done, I took off. I grabbed my bike and left for home. When I got home, I unplugged all the phones because I knew the world would be calling me. I have to think. What is my problem? Did I really just do that? Sorry, but I have to think.
Tuesday, May 3rd, 2011
12:46 a.m.
Awakening
I can’t sleep. I have too much on my mind. Strange is the only word that comes to mind when I think about what happened to me yesterday. I guess you could say I had an awakening. While delivering the world’s wettest swirly to a much-deserving runt of a kid, I paused to take in the whole scene. Can you picture it? I had the kid hanging upside down, with the whole student body chanting my name, at least as many as could fit in the restroom, chanting my name:
“Bradley, Bradley!”
It sounded so sweet, but then, with the runt’s scrawny ankles in my hands, I began to wonder how I got here. I finished the swirly and ran home. All the way I was thinking, how did a scrawny kid known as Bradley the Brain turn into this mean person whose name strikes fear into the hearts of his fellow students and who picks on kids smaller than himself?
The best way to uncover the story of my life—my transition from nerd to bully—will be to go back and read the beginning of my blog. There are only two weeks left of school. Do I really want to end my eighth-grade year like this? Will I find a way out of my life of torture, destruction, and bullying? Is two weeks long enough to get off my current social path of doom and gloom, or will I go into summer with a bad reputation a mile long?
Where there is a will, there is a way.
Man, I really hope so.
Thursday, May 5th, 2011
4:45 p.m.
The Plan
I took the day off of school yesterday. I wasn’t ready to face the world. But I did go to Angela’s house last night to talk with the principal. I told him everything. I told him about my blog and that it contains all of the details on how I got in the situation I’m in now. I asked him if he was going to punish me, and he said, “No, not yet.” He went on to tell me that I need to solve this mess. I need to leave Buzz out of it because he has already chosen the correct path. As for Jacob, I need to leave him out of it too; the principal talked with his parents, and they are taking care of him. As for me, the principal couldn’t get a hold of my parents, so he is dealing with me directly. He told me Tim should be writing Jacob an apology letter as we speak but that I need to stay in this silly game in order to make Donald stop. Those weren’t his exact words, but that is the point that I left with. I need to end this war with Donald.
So today I rode the bus to school to talk with Hercules to see if he had any idea of how to stop this whole thing. He had no idea. But he did tell me that because Tim is now out of the equation, Tim told Hercules what Donald is planning to do to me. This Friday, Donald plans to bring a knife to school to slash the tires on my bike and to scratch up the paint.
Donald has really gone to the next level. I would never have thought he was the kind of person to do something like that. Of course, I never thought I would have ever given a kid a swirly. But this gave me an amazing idea. This is one of those things that I don’t want to do, but it needs to be done.
If you want the rainbow, you must put up with the rain.
I guess a little rain never hurt anyone.
Friday, May 6th, 2011
5:56 p.m.
Video on Demand
What a great day to catch a culprit. Today I grabbed my parent’s video camera and went to school on my bike. All day I had to keep a close eye on Donald so I would know when exactly he was going to vandalize my bike. If he got up from the lunch table, I did as well. If he asked to use the bathroom, I had to go as well. It wasn’t until PE when I lost him. We were told to run laps around the school, and I couldn’t find the guy anywhere. I ran back to the locker and grabbed my camera. I noticed Donald’s locker had been opened as well. I flipped on the camera and ran to the bike racks. He was there. I hid behind a car and filmed.
I must say, I was very sad to see him slashing my tires, scraping off the paint, chopping off one of the handle grips, and removing the stuffing from my seat. I worked hard on my bike, and bikes aren’t cheap. I could only imagine how many hours my dad had to work at his job just to afford a bike for me, and all I could do was film its termination. I could have yelled something to stop the hate crime, but I had to video the full amount of damage.
Finally, Donald got up and looked at the bike, then at the knife. He looked sad. I couldn’t help but wonder if he really didn’t want to do this but felt he had no way out. Since Donald had told Tim about what he was going to do, he would look like a loser if he didn’t follow through with it. This one little glimpse of Donald’s sadness made me happy to be filming him.
School ended, and I went to my bike, and just as I had filmed, the bike was ruined. I guess I kind of hoped it was a different bike he killed. Seeing the bike up close made the whole thing really sad for me, and I broke down and silently wept. But the bike is such a small sacrifice for what I really want. I walked home with my head low. I couldn’t tell my parents, even though I have a plan. I didn’t want to see their reactions to the damages. I must say, I never thought things would get like this.
Blog of a Bully Page 9